There is a garden in her face
Where roses and white lilies blow;
A heavenly paradise is that place,
Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow:
There cherries grow which none may buy
Till -Cherry-ripeâ? themselves do cry.
Those cherries fairly do enclose
Of orient pearl a double row,
Which when her lovely laughter shows,
They look like rose-buds filled with snow;
Yet them no peer nor prince can buy
Till -Cherry-ripeâ? themselves do cry.
Her eyes like angels watch them still;
Her brows like bended bows do stand,
Threat'ning with piercing frowns to kill
All that attempt with eye or hand
Those sacred cherries to come nigh,
Till -Cherry-ripeâ? themselves do cry.
Cherry-ripe
Thomas Campion
(1)
Poem topics: laughter, rose, snow, white, place, pearl, face, garden, paradise, stand, watch, attempt, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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